


Rodeo Roleplay

by animehead



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animehead/pseuds/animehead
Summary: Jesse enjoys a drink at a bar when a familiar face walks in…





	Rodeo Roleplay

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this fantastic pic: http://vimeddiee.tumblr.com/post/159527384241/mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-hes-too-powerful

The bar is an old hole in the wall. Nothing fancy. In fact, it’s more or less the opposite. The countertop is chipped along the edges, and the once mocha colored surface has faded to the color of stale coffee diluted with too much milk. The floors aren’t any better. Scuffs and scrapes have permanently settled into the wood like tattoos.

The thermostat’s busted and a dry heat circulates throughout the building. The metal fans stationed in the four corners of the room are doing their best, but it’s not nearly enough to cool the place down.

But the booze is good, and that’s all that matters to Jesse McCree.

“Whew.” Jesse wipes the sweat from his forehead with the palm of his right hand, and brushes a few strands of damp brown hair away from his eyes. “Hotter’n a god damn oven in here.”

Gabriel grunts in agreement as he pulls off his beanie, dark eyebrows knitted close together in a frown. “Thought you said you were gonna’ get that AC fixed, slick,” he calls over to the bartender, not realizing that she’s no longer behind the counter and heading toward them with their drinks.

“I could-” she says, and places two glasses on to the table, one in front of Gabriel, and the other in front of Jesse, “-if either of you would actually pay your tab.”

“Hey, hey. Ya know I’m good for it, Ms. Ana. Just gotta’ wait for the right job to come along. That happens, it’s smooth sailing for all of us.”

Ana rolls her eyes and chuckles. “So you say, McCree.” As an afterthought, she sets an ashtray on top of the table a few inches away from where she sat his glass.

“I mean it. Just ya wait,” he says.

“Heh.” Gabriel takes a long sip from his glass before setting it back down on the table. He scrunches up his face, probably from the burn of alcohol flowing down his throat. “If she leaves it up to you, she’ll be waiting an eternity.”

Jesse brings his own glass to his lips and takes more of a gulp than a sip. Ana’s bar may not be easy on the eyes, but she sells the best whiskey in town. Hell, maybe even in the country, and not just because it’s free. Unlike Gabriel, Jesse holds his glass in his hand. There’s no sense in putting it down when he’s just going to drink from it again.

“Y’all of little faith. Something good is comin’. Ya’ll’ll see.”

“It’s _ye_ of little faith,” Ana corrects him, leaning against the counter about a foot or two away from their table.

Jesse smirks at her. “Where I come from, it’s _y’all_.”

Ana shakes her head, knocking her long, dark hair off of her shoulders to where it rests against her back.

“As if you’d know a good thing even if it walked right in front of you,” Gabriel adds.

Jesse downs the rest of his drink, and then holds up his empty glass to Ana with a pleading smile on his face before turning to Gabriel. “Don’t much appreciate y’all gangin’ up on me. It’s like—”

He’s interrupted by the bar door opening and the three friends turn their heads to see who has entered. The guest walks past them and takes a seat at the table across from where Jesse and Gabriel sit. He’s familiar, but not a regular. At least not to Ana, or Gabriel for that matter.

But he is for Jesse.

“Can I get anything for you?” Ana asks the guest, her voice as calm and pleasant as ever.

“Water,” the man says without looking at her.

“Certainly.” She pushes up from the counter, pausing to grab Jesse’s glass, and then heads back behind the bar.

“Water, huh?” Jesse says. “Not many folks come into a bar and ask for something they can get out of a hose for free.”

He eyes the man, taking in the looseness of his clothing, which allows for a partially exposed chest. A tattoo runs along his arm, extending from his pectoral to his wrist.

The man turns to face him, his brown eyed stare is intense, but Jesse sees the emotions he tries to hide within them.

“There are people in this world who have no qualms with paying for their sustenance. And even more who have enough self-respect to not to get it from a garden hose.”

Jesse chuckles. “Ya don’t say.”

Gabriel exhales and stands up from his seat. “Crashing in your office for a bit,” he announces to Ana before he walks toward a door on the other side of the room. “Wake me up in a couple of hours.”

Walking toward her new guest, Ana nods at Gabriel, and then places the glass of ice water on the table in front of her new guest. She turns and hands Jesse his refill of whiskey to which he graciously thanks her.

“If either of you need me, I’ll be in the back,” she says.

“What?” Jesse complains. “Come on. Stay awhile.” He grins is so big that it makes his eyes crinkle.

“I’d rather not,” she replies, and pulls off his hat, placing it on the chair next to him. “Behave yourself, Jesse McCree.”

“Ya can count on me, Ms. Ana.”

Once Ana is gone, Jesse turns his attention back to the man at the table across from his.

“Ya sure know how to clear out a room. Must be that scowl yer sportin’.”

“If my face bothers you, you are not obligated to look at it,” the man replies.

Jesse pulls a metal tin out of his pocket, flips open the lid, pulls out a cigar, and holds it between his lips. He then struggles to retrieve the matchbook nestled inside of the tin, tongue poked out in concentration as he attempts to pluck it out with his fingers. After a few tries, he finally grabs it.

He flicks the match and a small fire ignites and dances in front of him. He feels the other man’s eyes on him as he lights the cigar, breathing in to make sure it lights properly. Afterward, he blows out the match, and tosses it into the astray on the table.

“Now why would I not want to look at a pretty face like yers?” He holds the cigar between his lips and lowers his hands down toward his chest. The sound of a zipper being undone is drowned out by the whirl of the fans, but it’s easy to imagine.

“Bit warm in here, init?” One of his hands finds its way back to the cigar, holding it against his lips, while the other holds his glass against his inner right thigh, black gloves gripping it securely.

With his zipper of his uniform undone, his chest is exposed, tanned and solid and covered in hair. It’s impossible not to notice the indentions of his abs or the overall broadness of his torso.

“It is indeed warm,” the man replies.

Jesse watches him as he takes in Jesse’s appearance, expression unreadable, but Jesse knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“Ya know, not a soul would fault ya if ya wanted to take a few of those layers off,” he says.

The man manages a small smile. “I do not think that that the best idea.”

“Then why dontcha come over here and let me do it for ya.”

“I-” the man pauses, making sure to let his gaze roam over Jesse’s before continuing, “-would consider it if we were someplace more private.”

“This place is like a second home to me,” Jesse states. “Ms. Ana won’t mind at all.”

“Identifying a bar as your second home is troubling, Jesse McCree.”

Jesse chuckles, smoke fanning from his lips. “So ya do remember my name after all, Hanz.”

“My name-” the man stands up and walks the short distance between his table and Jesse’s, “-is Hanzo. Not _Hanz_.”

Jesse sets his drink on top of the table and his cigar into the ashtray. His gloved hands slide up the outer surface of Hanzo’s thighs and settle just at his hips. His fingertips dig into the curve of Hanzo’s ass, simultaneously squeezing and pushing him forward.

“Well, I think,” he murmurs, “yer name is whatever I decide to call ya.”

“And what do you decide to call me?” Hanzo questions.

“What do I decide to call ya?” Jesse repeats. “Well, hell, Hanzo. I’d sure enjoy calling ya mine.”

“Jesse…”

“Shh.” Jesse’s already focused on undoing Hanzo’s clothing. When he finishes, the lower half of his pools around his feet, completely exposing him. Jesse seconds from leaning in when Hanzo stops him.

“I want-” Hanzo hesitates, a slight blush staining his cheeks, “-it be to like last time.”

“Last time…” Jesse leans back in his chair and brings his hand up to his chin. He strokes his beard, as if pondering the question before nodding. “Alright, we can do that. But, ya gotta’ let down that pretty hair of yers so I can run my fingers through it.”

“This is-” Hanzo begins, but Jesse cuts him off with a firm smack to his ass.

“Them’s my terms.”

Hanzo huffs softly and nods. Jesse watches intently as he brings his hands up to his head to free his hair. It falls against his shoulders, smooth and straight like a curtain of dark silk.

“Alright then. Go for whatcha know.” He winks at Hanzo.

Eagerly and abruptly, Hanzo lowers himself onto his knees in front of Jesse, and then positions himself on all fours. His hands wrap themselves around Jesse’s ankles, fingers toying with the spurs on his boots.

“Keep it above the ankle, darlin’,” he warns. “Mighty dusty outside.”

“Understood,” Hanzo murmurs just as he brings his face to rest against Jesse’s covered shin.

Jesse watches, speechless as a pink tongue slides out from Hanzo’s mouth and glides against the leather wrapped around his leg. Hanzo licks along the length of Jesse’s leg, tasting leather, rubber, and metal. He angles his head, pushing through the space between Jesse’s spread legs, and bites at a thick, muscled calf.

Jesse growls above him, spreads his legs wider, and tangles his fingers into Hanzo’s soft hair. Hanzo takes his time, licking and biting from ankle to thigh from one side to the other. Jesse’s clothes act as a barrier, both frustrating and arousing him.

When Hanzo works his way up, head positioned between Jesse’s legs, Jesse’s fingers grip tighter into his hair, and hold his head in place.

“Ya know what ya doin’ to me, dontcha?” he purrs, one hand still clinging to Hanzo’s hair, the other rubbing at the unmistakable bulge between his legs.

“I do,” Hanzo answers, his mouth muffled against Jesse’s crotch and his hand.

“Ya gonna’ take care of it?”

“Perhaps,” Hanzo replies.

“Perhaps, huh?” Jesse pulls Hanzo’s head away from his lap, and stands up. He stares down at Hanzo, unfastening his pants, heavy belt buckle swinging from his hips and dangling at his side. He pulls down his pants and underwear just enough to let his cock jut out, hard and proud, and so unbearably close to Hanzo’s lips.

“Then I’ll just leave this here, and let ya think about it. How’s that sound?” Jesse sits back down, eyes still locked on Hanzo’s own.

“Tempting,” Hanzo’s says, before lowering his head, mouth widening and lips wrapping around the tip of Jesse’s cock.

Jesse hisses and grunts. He moans Hanzo’s name, low and steady. His hands rest against Hanzo’s head, then guides it up and down the length of his cock. Hanzo won’t look at him when he does this, but that’s all right. Jesse still takes in the view awe anyway. Gently, carefully, he rocks his hips, sliding his cock deeper into the wet heat surrounding him, fucking Hanzo’s mouth and groaning as soft lips caress the sensitive skin of his cock.

“Mm, that’s right,” he encourages. “Just like that. Suck it nice and slow, darlin’. We ain’t gotta rush at all.”

Hanzo moans around the cock in his mouth and Jesse gasps, stilling Hanzo’s head.

“Eaaaasy,” he breathes out, more to himself than to Hanzo. “Ya gonna’ make me erupt before we even get to the good part,” he chuckles. “Why dontcha come on up here and let me show ya what this thing can really do.”

Hanzo pulls back far enough for Jesse’s cock to slip out of his mouth. “Crude as ever,” he says with a smirk, lips pink and puffy from being stretched around Jesse’s dick.

“Yer one to talk,” Jesse counters. “Come on up here and ride it for me. I got just the thing we need right here.” He reaches down, blindly searching for where his pocket, which now rests against his thighs. It takes a few seconds of searching, but he manages to find what he’s locking for—a packet graciously filled with clear liquid. He waves the packet at Hanzo and winks. “Rodeo’s waiting for ya.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes but stands. Jesse tears open the package with his teeth, and spits a bit of plastic out of his mouth. It flutters through the air and falls a few inches away from one of the chair legs.

“Your gloves,” Hanzo says, and nods down at the leather covering Jesse’s hands.

“That’s alright. It won’t do ‘em no harm.” He flips over the package of lube and lets it drizzle onto his cock. His cock twitches at the coolness and he lowers his hand, spreading the substance against it until both his cock and his gloves are wet and slick.

He looks up at Hanzo with lust-filled eyes and licks his lips. “Ya gonna’ ride this thing or ain’t ya?”

Hanzo quirks an eyebrow at him and begins tis straddle him, but Jesse stops him by pointing at his hat. “Grab that for me.”

Hanzo grabs the hat and hands it to him, but Jesse shakes his head. “It’s yer rodeo.”

“If I refuse?” Hanzo narrow his eyes at Jesse.

“Then ya can’t ride,” Jesse answers.

“Idiotic,” Hanzo mumbles, but there’s no malice behind it. “Fine.” He puts the hat atop his head and straddles Jesse’s lap.

Jesse settles his hands at Hanzo’s hips, slowly guiding him down. “Nice and slow,” he murmurs. “I like to see all those sexy faces ya make.”

Hanzo braces himself as he slides down Jesse’s cock, fingers gripping the back of Jesse’s chair. His lips are settled into a straight line before they part, opening into a silent gasp. He bites down on his bottom lip and squeezes his eyes shut. Jesse’s cock penetrates him, spreads him. His thick thighs tremble with exertion.

“That’s right, sugar,” Jesse whispers. “Almost. Ya almost got all of me in there. Ya can take a little more of me, can’t ya? ‘Course ya can.”

Hanzo answers with a whimper and a nod and continues his descend. When he’s fully settled against Jesse’s lap, he drops his head down, giving himself a few seconds to adjust.

“Knew ya could do it,” Jesse congratulates him.

“Quiet, imbecile.”

Jesse snickers and thrust upward, making Hanzo cry out. “I got yer imbecile right here,” he taunts and repeats the action, thrusting hard into Hanzo who grips tighter at the back of the chair in response. “Look at ya. Ya lettin’ the bull have its way with ya.”

Hanzo’s breath comes out in heavy pants as he rocks above Jesse. “You think yourself a bull? What is a bull to a dragon?” Moans fall from his lips and he grinds his hips down against Jesse’s.

“Dragon sure is doin’ an awful lot of moanin’,” Jesse teases.

“The dragon is not ashamed to experience pleasure,” Hanzo replies.

“My kind of dragon,” Jesse says, and pulls Hanzo toward him and into a kiss.

The taunting and teasing dies down after that. There’s nothing but moans and whimpers, breathless pleas and hisses of pleasure. Jesse fucks Hanzo the way he wants to be fucked, the way he needs to be fucked, even when he refuses to admit it no matter how many times they do this.

“Tell me yer mine,” Jesse manages to breathe out. His hand is gripped in Hanzo’s hair, and so he yanks down, forcing Hanzo’s head back and presenting his neck.

“Jesse,” Hanzo moans, one hand clinging to Jesse’s wrist the other wrapped around his own cock, stroking in time to Jesse’s violent thrusts.

“Say it,” Jesse half begs, half demands, as he leans forward, teeth nipping and scraping the sensitive skin of Hanzo’s neck. “Say it and I’ll give ya this anytime ya want. Anytime, anywhere. I swear it.

There’s a moment when time seems to stand still. Where it’s nothing but him slamming into Hanzo, forcing delicious cries from his beautiful mouth. He’s asked so many times in the past, but Hanzo—gorgeous, reluctant, Hanzo—is always hesitant to say the word. To stop playing the games and make this thing serious. To make it permanent. But Jesse keeps asking because one day, _one day_ he knows just _knows that_ Hanzo will say yes.

And then Hanzo nods.

A single certain dip of his head, and Jesse feels his heart leap

“Yer serious?” he asks, and he’s slowed down his rhythm, but has deepened his thrusts.

Hanzo nods again.

And if it weren’t for the fact that it would kill the mood, Jesse would have hooted and hollered and slapped his thigh and shouted to the ends of the earth that finally, finally, Hanzo Shimada was his.

Instead, he holds Hanzo close, and raises his hips, murmuring sweetly against his chest about how he’ll always make him feel like this. Maybe it’s too cheesy, maybe it’s not something that Hanzo wants to hear. He doesn’t know. All he knows is that it’s true.

But Hanzo rests his head against Jesse’s shoulder and gasps, loud and sudden and Jesse feels the warmth of his release splattering against his chest and stomach, and he thinks that maybe it had been something that Hanzo needed to hear after all. And just knowing that is enough to make him follow suit, fingers gripping Hanzo’s waist until it bruises with deep red fingerprints.

For a few seconds, there’s nothing but the sound of breathing and fan blades slicing through the air. Jesse’s warm skin begins to cool and a shiver runs down his spine.

“I don’t know ‘bout ya, but that was the best damn rodeo I’ve ever been to.”

“Jesse,” Hanzo warns him, tired but playful eyes narrowed down at him.

“Ya done messed around and wrangled up my heart.”

“Enough,” Hanzo replies, hands over his ears. “No more of your words.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop,” Hanzo says through laughter. “We better make ourselves presentable anyway. Ms. Ana knows what we’ve been up to in here, but that don’t mean she’s gotta’ see us like this.”

“For once you have said something that makes sense,” Hanzo replies.

“I say plenty of things that make sense.” Jesse winks at him. “And now yer duty bound to hear ‘em.”

“…Indeed.” Hanzo reaches up, hesitates for just a second before tipping the hat on his head.

And although Jesse’s not certain, he wouldn’t be surprised if anyone within a five mile radius can hear his laughter.


End file.
